


and we’ll take turns to untangle the knots

by Arinalle Fanirei (ShakyHades)



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Relationship Study, So much fluff you'll get diabetes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakyHades/pseuds/Arinalle%20Fanirei
Summary: though our hands may be tied, it’s all part of the plot / cat’s cradle etiquette, we oblige / as we learn to enlace for the rest of our lives~Riku and Sora have always been closer than most best friends typically are;tooclose, some would say, but Riku convinced himself to stop caring about what others thought of their relationship around the time he turned sixteen.He’s gotten used to people assuming they’re a couple, to the point where he doesn’t even bother clearing it up anymore. For starters, Sora has never seemed to mind; and in the end, theirs is the only important opinion in this equation: so long as Sora is happy with what they have, Riku is too.That’s all that matters, really.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	and we’ll take turns to untangle the knots

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Tethered, by Sleeping At Last.
> 
> Before we get into how the idea for this fic came to be, I really wanna talk a little about this song because it's just the PERFECT married soriku song, really, 100%. For those who don't know, "cat's cradle" is a game in which usually two people pass a string from one's hand to the other, with the objective of creating patterns and stuff. In his post detailing the creation of the song, Ryan (aka Sleeping At Last) talked about how he decided to use that as an imagery for marriage; you make a commitment to tie yourself to someone else and make something beautiful with them, working to untangle any knots that may happen along the way. So that's why I chose those lyrics in the title/summary :3
> 
> Ok!!! So a few days ago I was talking about how I wish we had more stories in a college setting because that has so much more potential than high school settings and later that night my brain basically went "oh you want a college au? then HAVE ONE, BITCH!" 😔 then after telling this idea to another friend, Riku proceeded to lift me off the floor by the lapels, tell me that He Has Things To Say And I Will Listen, then shook me violently until 3,8k words fell out in about five hours. (the rest of the word count was added in editing later on)
> 
> So, here it is! 3.9k of pure, distilled fluff. I shall not be held responsible by any diabetes this may cause — you have been warned >:3c

Having a quiet trip in Axel’s car is rare -- the redhead is usually loudness incarnate, be it with his voice, his body or his taste in music -- but in this particular night, that’s exactly what happens. Even Roxas, who pretty much never runs out of snarky commentary, is currently silent; Sora, for his part, might as well be dead to the world, having nestled himself to Riku’s side as soon as the car started moving.

Strange as this is, it all makes sense in hindsight, of course. They’ve all had a very busy day, going around town with the rest of their friends; moreover, their regularly scheduled gaming session at Aqua’s place definitely ended later than usual, which doesn’t help their tiredness any.

However, Riku would still argue that the greatest thing to come out of the entire day was seeing Sora truly exhausted. Every now and then, he begins to doubt if such a feat is even _possible_ , what with Sora’s typical bottomless energy, but it seems that a handful too many songs on Just Dance -- competing against the masters Aqua and Kairi, no less -- have finally managed to do the trick.

He’ll have to store that information for a rainy day.

Another unusual feature of tonight is the lack of Kairi in their ride home. Given that she lives a few blocks away from Axel, she tends to be around whenever he drops off Sora and Riku, but she’d been so deeply asleep on one of Aqua’s couches that they decided it was best to leave her be.

Riku is feeling a little drowsy himself. He rather likes the nebulous, peaceful feeling of the hours between one and four a.m., even if he’s rarely awake to experience it. Tonight is even better for how _cold_ it is; the day had been quite pleasant, but temperatures had plummeted during the evening, ensuring a good night’s sleep huddled under a thick cover or two.

A glance out of one of the windows has him realizing that they’re getting close to home, which in turn makes him start to mentally prepare himself to deal with a sleep-drunk Sora who will _definitely_ _not_ enjoy being moved. That’s the downside of seeing his best friend truly exhausted, he supposes -- a sleepy Sora is a whiny, clingy Sora.

Axel turns to face them after parking in front of Sora and Riku’s building, stifling a snort at the sight of Riku trying (failing, really) to extricate his arm from Sora’s hold. It takes a gust of cold air from Riku opening the door to have Sora snap back into something like consciousness, even as it makes Roxas call Riku about a dozen bad names for subjecting them to such terrible torture.

Thankfully, Riku manages to exit the car before Sora can grab his arm again and fatally go back to sleep, forcing him to open his eyes. His best friend is _adorably_ confused by the sudden lack of a warm, cuddly Riku next to him, blinking blearily at the open car door as Axel and Roxas snort at his befuddlement.

“C’mon, Sora, we’re home,” Riku croons softly, bending his knees to be able to see Sora better.

“Yeah, man, get out of here before we start freezing,” Roxas chides without any real bite, wrapping his arms around himself a little tighter.

“Unless you wanna sleep over at our place?” Axel half-smirks, raising an eyebrow.

Sora considers all this for two seconds, then finally starts to clumsily scoot towards the open door. He frowns at the ground for another three seconds, feet hanging out of the car but not yet having made contact with the floor, then promptly lifts his arms in Riku’s direction -- a gesture that Riku is more familiar with than he could ever wish to be.

He adjusts the reasonably heavy backpack over a shoulder with a small roll of his eyes before reaching out for his baby of a best friend, lifting him up with ease and settling him onto his hip like their mothers used to do when they were still tiny enough to be carried. Roxas raises his hands in prayer at the closing of the door, but Riku is too busy dealing with Sora’s dead weight to snark at him on behalf of his currently half-unconscious best friend, so he makes a mental note to prepare an extra good comeback for whenever they meet next.

A moment later, Sora takes the hint to perform his best impression of a koala, thus freeing one of Riku’s hands to make sure the backpack remains on his shoulder. He can’t help but laugh under his breath as Sora fits his face to the crook of Riku’s neck -- a bid to avoid the harsh streetlights, Riku would bet.

“Thanks, guys,” he says once he’s fairly sure he won’t drop anything, stepping away from the car to be able to see both of their friends properly. “Today was fun.”

“Yeah,” Roxas mumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Sora, won’t you say goodbye to our friends?” Riku asks in a teasing tone, lightly pinching the underside of Sora’s thigh to gather his attention.

Even so, it takes about half a dozen seconds for Sora to process what has been said and remove his face from the collar of Riku’s jacket, causing all three of them to snort.

“Bye,” Sora says at last, lifting a hand in a feeble wave. This is immediately followed by him resuming his earlier position, pulling a fresh round of chuckles from Riku, Axel and Roxas.

“Well, see ya,” Axel salutes them, barely waiting for Riku’s nod before he pulls the car out of parking and into the road again.

Riku shifts Sora’s weight a little higher on his hip with a sigh as he starts to walk towards their building. He exchanges a small nod of greeting with the doorman upon finally entering the blessedly warm hall, then sends a prayer of gratitude to the heavens for the fact that their building has _elevators_ \-- the gods know that climbing up five sets of stairs while carrying Sora would have been anything _but_ fun.

Getting his keys out of his pockets without dislodging Sora is not an exactly easy feat, but Riku has had enough practice with it that he pulls it off with minimal fuss. He sets the backpack down just to the side of the door before closing it behind him and locking it with a flick of his wrist, taking a deep breath of relief at the feeling of finally being home.

It takes a bit more cajoling to get Sora to let go of him again, but their soft couch proves too tempting for Sora to resist, so down he goes. He watches Riku walk away with half-lidded eyes; Riku knows from past experience that his best friend will most likely slowly perk up and prepare for bed without the need for any further coaxing, which frees him up to put away the food Aqua _insisted_ they bring with them.

Entering the kitchen reminds him that they’d left the apartment before he could deal with the mess they’d made of the sink on the previous night, causing him to let out a groan. He’d allotted enough time to clean it up before they had to go anywhere that morning; he didn’t take into account, however, that Sora could have mixed up the meeting time, which was of course exactly what happened.

Needless to say, they’d been pretty surprised when Axel showed up at the door with a raised eyebrow way earlier than expected, resulting in the two of them packing up to leave in a hurry.

“Well then,” he mutters into the empty kitchen, discarding his coat, rolling up his sleeves and picking up the sponge.

He doesn’t mind taking care of such mindless chores at this hour, really. The world is silent and blissfully still under the heavy blanket of night, with everything feeling soft and slightly fuzzy at the edges; the countless pressures of university or of learning how to become a better adult have no hold on him now, despite how sometimes he feels like they’re eating him alive during the daylight hours.

He can just pick up a plate or a cup or a fork and work meticulously to make them clean again, occasionally running a blunt nail over a patch to make sure the grime has truly come off, allowing his mind to wander to wherever it wants to go.

It drifts, unsurprisingly, to Sora -- its favorite subject, if he’s being honest.

At times, it’s hard to believe that they’ve been living together for about two years now; it feels like Sora graduated only yesterday, with Riku having waited a year for them to start university together while working odd jobs to save up some money for the necessary expenses.

Their families are well off enough -- what with having a doctor and a nurse in their midst -- that their parents agreed to rent out an apartment near campus for the two of them to share instead of paying for them to live in the dorms. It’s an opportunity that Riku is unspeakably grateful for; this way, they can get a feel of how it’s be like to manage their own household and expenses, while still having their parents as a safe net to fall back onto if needed.

He and Sora have always been close. It was kind of inevitable given how close their _mothers_ are, to be honest -- Riku lost count of how many sleepovers and joint family trips they had around the time he turned ten. Still, none of that prepared Riku for _living_ with Sora, even though he feels like it _should_ have, somehow.

Sora is messy at the best of times, be it due to laziness or forgetfulness; not only that, he’s also prone to flights of fancy that they _definitely_ cannot afford with their meagre part-time salaries. He’ll pout and whine whenever one of such flights takes him by storm and Riku vetoes it; in one particularly memorable time, he literally jumped onto Riku’s back to whine directly at his ear in the middle of a busy mall, earning the two of them dozens of strange looks.

But then again, Sora doesn’t mind being the one to cook on the condition of Riku being the one to wash the dishes, which is definitely a bonus. His messiness, meanwhile, can usually be managed with a few hard pokes and pointed reminders, so it’s not _all_ bad. Most importantly, they know each other well enough to instinctively tell when the other needs some space, be it because of a harder than usual university assignment or just because they wish to exist in isolation for a while -- though Sora rarely needs space because of the latter reason, given that he is an _incorrigible_ extrovert.

Even so, there’s another reason why living with Sora is so strange: Riku’s own feelings for him. He’s loved Sora for longer than he’s able to remember; been _in_ love with him ever since he was about thirteen at the latest. At this point, he can’t even begin to imagine what kind of person he would be if he didn’t have this _love_ filling up his chest, brushing against his ribcage, every time he’s in the same room as Sora.

Sometimes, it’s the only thing that his brain can come up with -- a barrage of _love love love_ that leaves him off-balance and breathless, because surely a person cannot hold such a feeling in their bodies without somehow exploding into confetti or something of the sort, right? And yet here he stands, living proof of the contrary, his love a living thing inside his body, its beat as steady as his heart’s.

When he was younger -- when he was ‘deep in his teenage angst phase’, as his mom would correct him in a fond tone -- it used to drive him a little insane. Every tingle of that love against his bones would cause dread to run down his spine; would produce a stab of pain into the tissue of his lungs until it felt like they were full of holes, and as such, unable to perform the necessary exchange of gases for his continued living.

He wanted it _out_ ; wanted to go back to simpler times when looking at Sora didn’t make his heart seize with _longing_ ; wanted to stop feeling a poisonous mixture of jealousy and shame whenever he felt like Sora was paying more attention to his other friends than to Riku; wanted other people to stop assuming they were a couple; wanted other people to stop looking at him as if they had exclusive access to every single fantasy he’d ever had of Sora, innocent or otherwise.

How could something so supposedly wonderful _hurt so much?_

It got better eventually, with the passage of time and the help of therapy to fill in the gaps that the years couldn’t heal. It took _work_ \-- more than Riku was willing to admit, at times -- but he eventually managed to convince his brain that what others thought didn’t _matter_.

He said it enough times in his head with enough conviction that he couldn’t help but start believing it; any relapse was met by a barrage of _theydon’tmattertheydon’tmattertheydon’tmatter_ until he couldn’t hear the nasty whispers of despair anymore.

Realizing that he doesn’t owe anyone else an explanation about the complexity of his relationship with Sora helped. For the longest time, the way in which Sora would just smile whenever others assumed they were boyfriends without saying anything to the contrary baffled him at the best of times and left him a _mess_ at the worst -- until, that is, he realized that Sora had been living by that philosophy for years upon years.

‘Yours and his are the only opinions that matters,’ his therapist would often tell him, endlessly kind in only the way someone born with a genuine wish to help people could be. She’d talk about how the most important thing was for the two of them to have a mutual understanding of what the bond between them meant, even if it was an unspoken one. After all, why try to fit themselves into a label merely for the benefit of others?

He’s brought out of his reverie by a litany of Sora-sounds coming from the living room: little groans, sighs and pops that let him know that he’d been right in trusting Sora to prepare for bed without any prompting. He chuckles to himself upon hearing the bathroom door click shut, though it very nearly trails off into a groan when a glance at the sink makes him notice that he’d considerably slowed his washing pace while zoned out.

He endeavours to speed it up so it’ll be done faster, but his mind, predictably, refuses to listen.

To be honest, he doesn’t even know what he and Sora are to each other. They are still best friends for sure -- at this point, he highly doubts anything could make them stop being such -- but sometimes he wonders if they haven’t crossed the line into being something _more_ without even noticing.

Their friends would good naturedly argue that _yes, they have,_ years ago in fact; but if that’s indeed the truth, then it was a shift so gradual that Riku can’t even pinpoint when it happened. They don’t do any of the gestures that are usually strictly associated with romantic relationships, such as kissing (or anything… more) but Sora _does_ insist on sleeping in the same bed as Riku more often than not, and their level of physical intimacy is definitely pretty far removed from the usual best friend fare.

Really, after having literally carried Sora the entire way from the car to their couch, does Riku even need to provide any further evidence?

Still, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t even know if Sora has ever thought about him in a romantic way; his best friend has never been one to examine his own feelings with any amount of scrutiny. Sora prefers to just keep going in life one day at a time unless forced to act differently, after all; and Riku is happy enough with the current status quo that he wouldn’t mind if they stayed like this for the rest of their lives.

As if summoned, Sora decides to appear then, dragging himself towards Riku before wrapping his arms around Riku’s waist and smushing his face into the back of Riku’s shirt with a quiet _‘oof’_. He doesn’t make any attempts at starting a conversation, so Riku stays silent as well. In any case, the warm presence at his back at least helps him to stay focused on his surroundings, thus allowing him to finish up the dishes faster.

About three minutes later, he feels Sora startle violently, completely out of nowhere. He’s confused for only a second; then it sinks in that Sora was, more likely than not, very close to falling asleep standing completely upright, which in turn makes him burst into laughter.

This entire sequence of events proves a pretty effective wake-up call to Sora, who decides to take the silence that had been broken by Riku’s laughter and shatter what remained of it into about a billion pieces.

“Riiiiiiiikuuuuuuu,” he whines, squeezing his waist a little tighter. “It’s laaaaaaaate, we should be in beeeeeeeed.”

Riku has to stifle a fresh round of chuckles upon noticing that Sora had stolen one of his sweaters; specifically, he had chosen the one with extra long sleeves that Riku had purchased for maximum warmth, which only means that Sora is absolutely drowning in it.

“I need to finish this, Sora,” Riku says once he’s gotten his amusement mostly under control, picking up the pace to hopefully be done before Sora decides he’d rather forcefully drag Riku to their shared bedroom than wait another second.

“You’ve been here _forever_ ,” Sora whines in a softer voice, his pout more than obvious in the sound. “It’s late and it’s cold and we should be in _bed!_ ”

Riku doesn’t even try to argue that Sora could have gone off to sleep by himself ages ago; they’ve had this argument enough times for Riku to know that Sora would only insist that it’s not the same without him there.

“I’m nearly done, I promise,” Riku smiles, starting to rinse off the plates. He hears a mighty huff in response -- he’d bet that Sora very nearly stomps his foot -- but his best friend does quiet down for a few minutes, probably wearing one of his _biggest_ pouts just for effect.

Once all the dishes have been successfully rinsed off and neatly set on the drying rack, Riku washes off his hands -- unable to keep himself from pressing the soap-rough pads of his fingers together even though the feeling of it makes some part of his brain _scream_ in acute discomfort -- before carefully turning around Sora’s hold to face him at last.

Sora tilts his head up to rest his chin on Riku’s sternum on autopilot, giving Riku only very brief peeks of the azure blue that lie behind his eyelids due to how he cannot for the life of him keep his eyes open.

Riku smiles fondly as he traces the curve of an ear; his smile grows into something more like a grin when Sora leans heavily into the touch, forcing Riku to support some of his weight. With the same amount of gentleness and quiet reverence, Riku traces the shape of his eyebrow, the line of his jaw, the arch of his cheek bone, the slope of his nose; stopping himself just before he swipes a thumb over Sora’s lower lip, or -- gods forbid -- leans down to steal a sweet, sleep-tinged kiss.

Some days, he almost can’t remember _why_ he should refrain from giving in to those urges; some days, Sora looks at him in such a way that Riku starts to doubt if Sora would _really_ mind if he just... went for it.

But Riku doesn’t. He promised himself years ago that he’d never take more than what was freely given; he’s content to let Sora set the tone of their little dance, no matter where it takes them.

...Gods, he loves this boy so much that he would never be able to put it into words, even if granted an eternity with which to do so.

“Bed?” Sora mutters adorably, forcing his eyes open just long enough to catch Riku’s gaze.

“Bed,” Riku nods, carding a hand through Sora’s hair, feeling more love than he could ever know how to deal with squirm happily inside his chest.

“Mkay,” Sora acquiesces, slowly letting go of Riku’s waist to make his way to their bedroom.

Before entering the bathroom to change into his sleep clothes and perform his nightly routine, Riku sees Sora carelessly pulling the covers off of his own bed, but he only understands _why_ Sora’d been doing that when he pokes his head out of the bathroom while swirling mouthwash only to find his best friend layering their combined covers atop Riku’s bed.

It’s such an unexpected sight -- given how utterly sleep-drunk Sora is, at least -- that he very nearly chokes while trying to contain the snort that wishes to burst forth, slapping a hand over his own mouth to keep himself from spitting all over their floor.

Real smooth, Riku. Real smooth.

He chuckles breathlessly after sending the mouthwash down the drain, flicking the bathroom lights off before he sets out to perform his usual nightly round over the house, making sure everything is locked and that they haven’t forgotten to put anything away.

Sora’s already under the covers when Riku enters the bedroom -- looking incredibly cozy, too. He scoots backwards as far as he can to let Riku slide under the covers, then proceeds to fit himself against Riku’s side with the ease of practice, letting out a relieved sigh once he’s found his usual preferred position.

“Night,” Riku speaks into the darkness, rubbing a thumb over the skin just above Sora’s hip, feeling Sora’s fingers curve over his sternum.

“Night,” Sora returns in a sigh, his body slowly losing the tension that it had accumulated over the day.

Riku waits patiently as Sora’s body continues to relax; as his breaths grow deeper and more even; as he drifts ever closer to being truly asleep.

When he’s about ninety percent sure that Sora is out like a light, he tilts his head downwards just enough to be able to press a kiss onto Sora’s hair, whispering the quietest of _‘love you’_ s into the brown strands.

He almost laughs when Sora shifts in his hold, clearly not as asleep as he’d thought, then feels his heart grow to about five times its usual size when Sora mutters a _‘love you too’_ back, though the words are almost lost to Riku’s shirt.

If they are truly meant to irrevocably cross the line into a romantic relationship one day, then they will. If they aren’t, Riku will still be infinitely happy with what they have now; he doesn’t _need_ anything more, not really, even if he does _want_ it. Spending the rest of their lives just like this would be more than enough; more than he could ever hope for.

Riku wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at @thefiresofmustafar on tumblr!


End file.
